


Camp

by lokiarrty



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokiarrty/pseuds/lokiarrty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John attend the same camp and are assigned to the same cabin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a six part teenlock short story. Each part will be put up two days apart from each other.

It had just turned midnight meaning camp curfew. It was a three day trip and each day was filled with non-stop activities. John had arrived early and placed his items in the cabin. He left to say goodbye to his parents and sister then went to grab a night time snack in the cafeteria. When he went back to the cabin he saw a tall slender boy with dark curly hair, about 16 years old. He stopped at the door, his heart skipping just slightly at the sight of the boy.

He walked forward into the cabin and with a smile he said, "Hello, I'm John."

The boy turned with a rather bored expression on his face. His eyes tracked up from the floor and went slowly up to John's face. He smiled when their eyes met.

"Sherlock," He said.

"So I guess we're gonna be rooming together for the next three days."

"Obviously," Sherlock said.

This was Sherlock's third year attending camp, each year having a different cabin mate. It was unusual to change who you roomed with so many times, but Sherlock found it hard to be with people he couldn't stand. He hoped that John would be different.

He had already looked over John's items determining where he was from, why he was there, and what type of person he was, just by his luggage. He seemed like a descent candidate for a roommate so far. He was trying to ignore it, but he couldn't help but think that John was attractive.

John opened his bag and grabbed cotton shorts and a t-shirt. He looked over to Sherlock who was sneaking a peak back at John as he was rummaging through his own bag.

"I need to change," John stated.

"Okay, I won't look," Sherlock lied.

John slipped off his shoes, then unbuttoned his jeans. His back was facing Sherlock as he slipped them down, wiggling his hips back and forth to make them slide off easier. He was wearing bright red pants and Sherlock looked over his shoulder unable to help himself as he watched John slip his jeans off. He smiled when he saw the bright shade of underwear that John was wearing, then forced himself not to look back at the half naked John. He was trying not to think of a scenario where John was taking off his clothes for him, but the thought kept reoccurring in his head.

"Okay, I'm done," John said, and Sherlock gave a microscopic nod, turning around.

John was wearing his version of pajamas and Sherlock was undressing him in his head. Sherlock threw the thought away. It was an unusual thought for him, and one he did not want to keep.

"Have you been camping before?" John asked.

"Uh," Sherlock stumbled, "Yes, this is my 3rd time coming to this camping trip."

"Oh, so you know the other boys?"

"Well," Sherlock said, trying not to say just how much he knew the boys and how well he already knew John. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" John asked. He grabbed his suit case and placed it under his cot.

"I know them in a non acquainted sort of way," Sherlock said.

"Oh," John said.

It got quiet. John placed one hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head. He looked around the room and breath out heavily.

"Well I'm new," John said, "So if we could possible become acquainted it would be nice."

Sherlock smiled and laughed a bit.

"Acquaintances we are then," Sherlock said.

"Or friends," John said sitting on his cot.

Sherlock smiled back at John and laid down.

"Goodnight," He said facing the wall away from John. His eyes were wide open as he tried to decipher his feelings toward John, the thought of him undressing back in his mind. He chopped it up to hormones and closed his eyes.

"Goodnight," John said his voice low in a rasp.

Sherlock sighed and whispered only loud enough for John to hear a hiss, "Dammit."


	2. Watch

A horn blasted in the distance signaling the boys to wake up. John got up quickly becoming far too excited for the activities to come. Sherlock made a small whining noise and grabbed the blanket over his head.

John got dressed and grabbed his toiletries to go out and brush his teeth.

When John got back Sherlock was still lying down. He looked at the clock that was sitting on the nightstand between both of their cots. He was weary of the time as they had to be at the dining hall at 6:30.

6:26

John shook Sherlock lightly.

"Sherlock, we have to be in the dining halls," He said in a whispered panic.

Sherlock turned over and sat up slowly. His hair was in messy knots and his eyes were only slightly open. Drool was on the side of his mouth along with on his pillow.

"I'm up," He said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

John laughed, his hand still resting on Sherlock's shoulder from when he was trying to get him up.

Sherlock waved him off and stood up, groggily walking to his suitcase and grabbing his clothes.

John sat on his cot, his feet tapping at the floor as he impatiently waited for Sherlock to finish getting ready.

"Just go, I'll meet you there," Sherlock said.

"Are you sure," John asked standing up.

"Yes," Sherlock said.

John looked at the clock again. It read 6:29. He looked back at Sherlock who nodded and he ran off.

John ended up eating breakfast alone as Sherlock never showed up. John rested his head on his hand and played with the bowl of cereal that was completely unappetizing.

On his way to exit the dining hall with a group of boys he didn't know, John was pulled to the side. It was one of the camp counselors.

The tall counselor looked at a clipboard then down at John.

"So, you're rooming with Sherlock," He said

"Uh yeah. If this is about him not being here, I tried to get him to come but he was a bit tired," John said in a rush.

"I don't care about that. Sherlock rarely eats anyways. I was just pulling you over to ask you to tell me if Sherlock gets into any trouble."

"What…what do you mean?" John asked, confused.

"Just keep an eye on him," He continued.

"Why?"

"Because I'm concerned about him," He said in the least concerning way he could. He sounded more annoyed then concerned.

"I… I'm gonna be late," John said walking away.

"Yes, you wouldn't want to be late," The counselor said looking back at the clipboard and walking away.

John walked out the door then turned his head back to get another glance at the counselor. He turned back around, bumping into Sherlock.

"Uff," John gasped. He looked at Sherlock then stumbled back. "Sorry."

Sherlock nodded.

"Where were you," John asked.

"I wasn't hungry," Sherlock answered.

"Yeah, someone told me you don't eat,"

"Someone? Who?"

"Just," John said grabbing Sherlock's shoulder and turning him around. He pointed into the dinning hall where the counselor he had spoken to was sitting, "he was asking me about you."

"Did he ask you to keep an eye on me?" Sherlock said annoyed.

"Yeah, how'd you…"

Sherlock grabbed John's arm and pulled him along with him back to the dining hall. John tried to resist but gave up when he realized the counselor saw them.

"I don't need a baby sitter Mycroft," Sherlock said.

"He's not a baby sister, he's your cabin roommate,"

"Did mum put you up to this?" Sherlock asked.

"Mum?" John said.

"Mum has nothing to do with this," Mycroft said.

"I'm 16, Mycroft, I can look after myself now,"

"I can't have what happened last year to happen this year," Mycroft said.

"It wasn't my fault," Sherlock said,

"Exactly why I need someone to tell me when something's going on. That way things like that won't happen again."

They continued to go back and forth, neither one being able to say who was right and who was wrong and John just listened to them, confused. He kept looking back and forth between the two fighting brothers, trying to decipher what had happened last year to make his brother still mad about it.

"I just want the best for you," Mycroft said.

"You keep telling yourself that," Sherlock said turning around. "Come on John, we're going to be late."

Sherlock stormed off. John hesitated looking from Sherlock to Mycroft. He shared one look with Mycroft who was telling him without saying a word to go after Sherlock. John ran after him.

"Sherlock," John said when he finally caught up with him, "What… what happened last year?"

Sherlock stayed quiet.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me." John said.

Sherlock smiled down at John, then his smile faded.

"You know, I never told him that I would keep an eye on you, and I won't. You seem capable of keeping an eye on yourself. I ju-"

"Thanks," Sherlock said, "Come on we don't want to miss out on rock climbing."

"Yeah," John said with a sheepish smile.

Sherlock tried to suppress his grin, but it stayed on his lips. He kept looking down at John, getting small glimpses of his face, memorizing how he smiled, and how sometimes, when John caught Sherlock's glance, he too would smile back.

Some how…John made Sherlock feel… not alone.

And Sherlock made John feel the same.


	3. The Wall

"Do we have any volunteers?" The rock climbing instructor yelled. He looked out among the crowd of boys whose hands shot up faster than he could finish stating his sentence.

He squinted his eyes against the shining sun and looked around, trying to find a boy who looked both capable and strong enough the climb the rock. His eyes fell upon two boys. Sherlock and John, who's hands were the only ones that weren't raised in the air, waving around like small grade school children. He knew Sherlock was capable of climbing the rock, he had seen him do it, but the boy next to him, he was new, and he looked ready. There was a small smile on John's face when he saw the instructor's eyes stop on him. He put his hand in the air just slightly and made a waving motion as if saying hello.

Sherlock looked at John and he knew right away what John was doing. John was going to use this as an initiation, a way to get accepted by the other boys at camp. And if there was anything that Sherlock knew it was that this one act would grant this acceptation, and John would be considered one of the normal kids. Sherlock felt a slight hint of jealousy, but held it back. He was used to rejection.

"You, right there," the instructor said pointing to John, "Come on, you'll be first."

John looked at Sherlock and smirked, trying to mask the excitement he felt of being the chosen one.

"Have you ever been rock climbing before?" the instructor asked.

"Yes," John said.

"Good,"

John got strapped into a holster. He walked over to the big, manmade, rock climbing wall and braced himself to be hooked to a large wire. He took a deep breath, as the metal hooks clamped together and it pulled him slightly off the floor. He arched his back forward and moved closer to the wall. He placed one hand on a bright red holder and his left hand on a blue one diagonally to the left of the first one. His feet lifted off the floor and he began to climb up the wall. He extended his reach and pulled himself up the wall, slowly, gracefully, and with great precision.

Sherlock couldn't help but think back to last night when he had peaked at John changing into his pajamas, and the bright red pants he had been wearing. He squinted to look at John who was now half way up the wall, and as John reached up to grab another holder, Sherlock could see a small line of bright red.

As John inched closer and closer to the top, his cheers grew louder and louder.

"You can do it."

"You're almost there."

"Reach for the yellow one, the yellow one!"

John took one last long stretch and hit the red button at the top of the wall. Everyone burst out in cheers, clapping, and praising him and he let go of the wall and let his weight carry him down. The instructor gave a few praises, and unlatched john from the wire. John took off the holster and walked into the crowd of boys who had nothing but questions.

"How was it?"

"Is it fun?"

"Was it hard?"

"Can I go next?"

John smiled at Sherlock who looked unimpressed.

"Good job," one boy said as he hit John's back.

John turned to a smiling boy. Sherlock made in audible noise in the distance as he watched John get sucked into a conversation with a boy he very much despised

"I'm Anderson," the boy said sticking his hand out.

John smiled back and shook his hand.

"I'm john," He said.

"So you're new right?" Anderson said.

"Uh, yeah."

"Do you want to hang out with me and my friends?" said Anderson, gesturing to a small group of boys to his left.

John touched the back of his head with his hand and nodded.

"Uh, sure," John finally said, "But I actually have to get back to someone."

"Yeah that's fine, just come sit with us during dinner. We sit on table five," Anderson said with his hand raised in the air to show a visual of the number five.

"Okay," John said walking away.

Sherlock was looking around as if he hadn't just been staring at John talk to that brainless boy. He had seen every movement, every nod, every nervous gesture that John made, and all of those pointed to John hanging out with Anderson and not him, yet John was walking back to him. He was just inches from him, and Sherlock was pretending he couldn't even see John.

"Hey," John said.

Sherlock nodded into the air, looking up at the sky as he did it and not down at John., trying to play it cool. He continued to look around as if something else was more intriguing to him, yet all he wanted to do was look at John and ask him why he came back to him and didn't stay with Anderson who obviously had flattered him in some way.

"Do you know that Anderson guy?" John asked. John was looking around now too. He wanted to find whatever it was Sherlock was looking for.

Sherlock leaned in and peaked from the corner of his eyes at John.

"Hmm?"

"Anderson. Do you know him?"

"More then I wish to," said Sherlock.

"I don't like him," said John.

This made Sherlock stop and look at John. John turned around from looking at something behind him and was met with Sherlock's eyes gazing down at him.

"Yes, well he's very dull," Sherlock said.

"Yeah I could see that."

"Good," Sherlock said smirking.

"Good?"

"Yes, see, I wouldn't want Anderson to lower your IQ," Sherlock said still smiling.

John looked at Sherlock, confused for but a moment then smiled back. He laughed and looked to the floor, shuffling his feet. Sherlock felt a tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach that lifted into his throat when he saw the reaction he gave John.

For the rest of the day Sherlock and John did every activity together. They sat back to back on the boat while fishing, teamed up while playing horseshoes, and won the three legged race.

Both Sherlock and John embraced this race pretending they were linking arms for a different reason than to just stay balanced. Their arms hooked around each other and their hands were latched together. Sherlock's steps were much longer then John's and this made it look as if Sherlock was dragging John along. When they finally crossed the finish line they fell to the floor, cheering. Their interlocked hands were still holding on to each other, as if they had forgotten to let go.

The day, as planned, would end with a hike up to the waterfall. Sherlock had already known that this hike would take place at sunset, but it surprised John. John looked out into the distance and saw the sun peaking out over the mountains. The sky was an assortment of colors from pink to orange to purple to red. John looked at it in astonishment, and Sherlock, who had seen this sunset for the past three summers looked at it in a different way than he had before. When he first saw it, it was just the sun going down, now he saw it as something that was beautiful, something that he should appreciate.

They got to the waterfall just in time to see a hint of light shining out from the top of the cliff. The pinks and purples, oranges and reds, lined the sky and made the waterfall look like it was from a different world. John gasped, his mouth twitching up in amazement.

"Beautiful isn't it," Sherlock said.

He had never thought it to be beautiful until that day.

"Yeah," John said, trying to commit the image to memory.

After a few minutes the image of the unworldly waterfall was gone. John looked away from it and to Sherlock who was sitting on a rock.

John sat next to him.

Sherlock pointed to a boy whose name had escaped John's mind.

"That boy stole something from one of the counselors," Sherlock said.

"What? When?"

"I'd say, sometime yesterday," Sherlock said.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" John asked.

"Because I just saw it right now," Sherlock said,

"What do you mean you just saw it right now?" John asked.

"Haven't you noticed that he's acting very fidgety, and whenever that counselor," Sherlock said pointing to the counselor, Lestrade, "Walks by him, or says anything, he won't make eye contact and tries his best to be as far away from him as possible. Judging by the way Lestrade has been acting he doesn't know that anything is missing yet, but with how much that boy's acting he must have stolen something valuable, like a wallet or a mobile, both of which would be useless out here, meaning James wouldn't be paying attention to them, but I'm sure at dinner tonight we're going to be asked if anyone has seen the item and with how the burglar is acting he's going to fess up right away."

John looked at Sherlock in surprise and amazement.

"So you didn't even see him steal it, you just found out he stole something by looking at him?" John asked.

"Yes."

"How?"

"I just observe," Sherlock said.

"Then how come I couldn't figure it out?"

"Because you don't pay attention," Sherlock said smugly.

John laughed and looked at the boy whose name he had forgotten and watched as he stayed far away from the counselor.

"Okay then, what about me?" John asked.

"What about you?"

"Do what you did to that kid and see what you can see about me,"

"I've already done that, right when I saw you," Sherlock said.

John smiled, "Tell me."

Sherlock sat up and turned to look John in the eyes. He took a deep breath.

"You work out on a daily basis to try and stay fit. You love your mother but despise your father which is why when you graduate you're going off to university to study something in the medical field, physician or in surgery. You like to travel, an army doctor possibly. You have an older sibling that more or less causes trouble in the house hold, an older brother perhaps that enjoys going to parties, and drinking. You don't get along with him because he doesn't share the same morals as you, and you constantly fight. All three of them dropped you off here, because you're family likes to think their all happy together, but really you just stay together because you have to. Coming on this trip was your mother's idea, which was why you were so willing to come, also because if you didn't you wouldn't have anything else to do over summer. You like these activities because they keep you active, and it promotes some kind of adventure, and adventure is what you live for… did I miss anything?"

John looked at him amazed. How could he know all that from just looking, let alone just looking at him that first night.

"That…was amazing," John said

Sherlock looked at him with surprise.

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, it was extraordinary. Quite extraordinary," John praised.

"That's not what people normally say,"

"What do people normally say?" asked John, his head cocking to the side.

Sherlock smiled.

"Piss off,"

John's mouth turned up, his eyes falling to his lap. Sherlock smiled back, enjoying the praises he had just received from John.

"Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock couldn't help himself.

"I am trying to stay fit and I want to work as an army Doctor. I love my mum, and I do dislike my father. He used to drink, he's stopped now, but I think it's rubbed off on Harry, who's always going out partying. My entire family did drop me off, this trip was my mother's idea, and I love to travel, which I'm sure also includes adventure."

"Spot on, I didn't expect to get everything right," Sherlock said smiling.

"And Harry is short for Harriet." John said.

Sherlock's face went from a smile to disappointment.

"Harry's your sister," his voice was in a low complaint, a whispered scream, "Sister!"

"You okay?"

Sherlock looked back at John, complete disappointment in himself.

"It's always something," He complained.


	4. Dinner

Sherlock and John entered the dining hall, grabbed trays, filled them with mashed potatoes, ground beef, and green beans, then took the seats in the far back corner at table 12.

"Is the food always this bad?" John asked.

He lifted his fork that had mashed potatoes on it and turned it to the side, watching as the food slowly slid down the fork and plopped down into the pile of mashed potatoes.

"Yes, which is why I don't eat."

Sherlock was sitting with his back against the backrest his legs stretched out and his hands resting on his stomach. His food was sitting untouched.

Sherlock rolled his eyes when he saw Anderson walking over to them. He sighed loud enough for Anderson to hear him. John turned around to see what Sherlock looked so annoyed about.

"Hello, John," Anderson said ignoring Sherlock.

"Hello," John said turning back to his food.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Anderson asked. "I wouldn't want you to sit alone."

"But I'm…not alone," John said looking up to Sherlock.

"You know Anderson, just because your vacancy sign is on, doesn't mean that the client will be willing to pay to stay there. John doesn't want to sit with you," Sherlock said, his arms now crossed.

Anderson rolled his eyes.

"That's his decision. Not that you're much company anyways. Always sitting to yourself. You know John…He never had anyone sit with him before. Not one to have any friends. In fact," Anderson turned to Sherlock, "can you name one friend that you have?"

Sherlock looked away.

"And you know what else, he's always meddling in everyone else's business, like a stalker. He listens in on peoples conversations and finds out your secrets. Its…. Creepy." Anderson continued.

"I don't listen to anyone's conversations. I stay away from people, like you pointed out. I simply observe. Something you have no concept of with that tiny little brain of yours. And you want to know what else," Sherlock leaned in and with a whisper he said, "You're secretly afraid that everyone here hates you, and judging by how much you're pursuing John, I think you're right."

Sherlock leaned back in his chair.

Anderson glared at Sherlock.

He turned to John with a sympathetic look, "If he's the one you choose to sit with, be my guest, but as you can see, he's not a people person."

Anderson turned back to Sherlock, "And I do have friends. They're sitting there waiting for me. We were just concerned for John's well being, we didn't want him to be sucked into your…antics."

"Shut up Anderson, you're so dull," Sherlock said, his nose crinkling up in disgust.

"It's your choice John. You can stay with this, freak or you can sit with normal people."

John was half paying attention to their insults toward each other and half paying attention to that boy Sherlock had pointed out that afternoon by the waterfall. While they were getting food, there was an announcement about a missing phone, and now, that boy was looking down at his feet, talking to the counselor, Lestrade, Sherlock had said he stole from. Then he saw it. The boy took the phone out from his pocket and handed it to the counselor who grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the offices. John watched this in amazement that Sherlock had been right, and right then and there he made his decision. When he came back to the conversation he heard Sherlock mocking Anderson.

"Come one John, you don't want to sit with him," Anderson said.

John huffed out a breath of air and with a half smile he said, "I'll stay here, but thanks for the invite…uhhh, what was your name again?"

Anderson stood up straight in surprise, and growled. He glared at Sherlock one last time, then John, and walked away.

John was smiling down at his food. He looked up at Sherlock, blushing and smiling.

Sherlock smiled back and began to laugh. John laughed with him and soon they were laughing so hard that it was hard to stop.

"Shhh," John said through his giggles, "Anderson's going to think we're laughing at him…"

They got quiet for a second, but lost it again when they made eye contact.

When the horn was blown for everyone to go back to their cabins their laughs finally died down.

They got ready for sleep, changing into pajamas, washing their teeth and face, and finally settled down into their respective cots.

The light was off, but both of them knew that neither of them were sleeping. They laid there in silence for a little over five minutes until John broke the silence.

"When Anderson said you didn't have any friends…what did he mean? I mean you have to have friends, everyone has friends," John said.

Sherlock was a loss for words and that was a new feeling for him.

"It's okay, I don't have very many friends either," John said.

Sherlock turned his head toward John, staying quiet.

"I used to be depressed," John confessed, after a couple seconds of silence.

"I know," Sherlock said.

"It was that obvious?"

"Well, to me, yes, to others, not at all. You're very good at hiding your scars."

"I," John lifted his arm and looked at it. He knew what his arm looked like better than anyone else and even he couldn't see the scars. "I thought they had gone away…"

"Well they have, almost, but you see," Sherlock got up from his cot and flicked on the light. He kneeled down on the side of John's bed and grabbed his arm.

John pulled it back and looked at Sherlock in shock. Sherlock's fingers were lightly brushing his arm, their eyes locked on one another. John looked back down at his arm and moved it forward, giving Sherlock permission to proceed.

"You see," Sherlock said turning John's forearm up, "All of them are almost completely invisible, meaning you've never cut very deep. You can't really see anything. But when we were in the three legged race I could see two faint scars, completely straight right here," Sherlock said brushing his finger across John's upper arm.

"You cut deeper on this part of your arm because it hurt less, and there was less chance of bleeding out. Those were the last two cuts you ever made weren't they," Sherlock said his eyes looking from the straight lined scars and into John's eyes.

John nodded, speechless.

"Your mum found out didn't she? Got you a therapist…which is why you've come here," Sherlock could see everything mapping out in his head.

Again John nodded.

"I'm glad you've stopped," Sherlock said. He fell back onto his butt from the kneeling position he'd been in. He didn't want to leave John's side, but he was too scared to sit on John's cot.

"When I asked you to tell me what you knew about me, why didn't you say this?" John asked.

"I…I don't know. I normally just say everything…but with you… I like you," Sherlock confessed.

Johns cheeks turned red as he smiled at what Sherlock had said.

"You, like me?" John said.

Sherlock looked up, his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Well isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me,"

"do…do you like me?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course," John said.

"Really? I mean I know I can be cold, and closed off, and-"

John leaned down over the cot and grabbed Sherlock's chin, bringing it up. He placed his lips on Sherlock's. Sherlock tensed up in surprise, his eyes wide, then as the kiss continued his body relaxed, his eyes closed, and he leaned into the kiss.

John pulled away and sat up on his cot. Sherlock sat there on the floor, his eyes slowly opening. He placed his fingers on his lips, then looked up at John.

"So you like me," Sherlock said.

"You're an idiot," John joked.

Sherlock laughed and got up from the floor and sat next to John on his cot. He placed his hand on John's neck and pulled him closer. He looked down at John's lips and readjusted his sitting position as they slowly got closer to one another. Their foreheads rested on one another's, John staring into Sherlock's blue eyes, and then the blue vanished and their lips were upon each other once again.


	5. Concern

The next day, Sherlock and John stayed close by each other. Just like the day before, they did every activity together. The other boys were starting to talk. Sherlock could see each and everyone of them saying things along the lines of "How did Sherlock get a friend?" "I bet his brother is forcing John to hang out with him." "Why would anyone willingly hang out with Sherlock?"

Sherlock ignored them, none of that mattered to him, but he could tell it was getting to John.

It was around 3:30 when John had had enough.

Sherlock was explaining a case he had come across a couple years ago with a boy named, Carl Powers, who had supposedly drown. He was a league champion swimmer and the chances of him drowning were so slim that Sherlock knew that couldn't have been what really happened. He explained to John that he tried to tell others that this was a murder and not just an accident, but the autopsy and all the other evidence said other wise, but he knew. Just as he was finishing up his story some one yelled out "How much money did Mycroft pay you to pretend to like Sherlock?"

John stopped. All the other comments he had heard were said in whispers but this boy deliberately wanted to hurt Sherlock. John turned to the boy, his hands in fists.

"John," Sherlock said pulling John back by his shoulder.

John brushed him off and continued to walk forward. Sherlock moved forward and stopped him. He turned John around to face him.

"John, don't do anything. The same thing happened to me last year… I mean not this, but they were bullying me last year too. I don't care," Sherlock said.

"Why don't you care? How can you not care?" John said.

"Their ideas of me don't matter. I know I'm better then them. Their comments mean nothing," Sherlock said.

"Well they mean something to me," John said.

Sherlock smiled, then turned serious.

"I don't want you to get involved with this. It doesn't matter to me, so it shouldn't matter to you," He tried to pursued him.

John looked back at the boy who was acting as if he had just won a fight. His arms were crossed, his stance wide, his face in a smug smile. John turned back to Sherlock and sighed.

"Fine," He said reluctantly.

They turned to continue walking over to the waterfall.

"Must be paying you a shit load of money, John. Having to stand that arrogant freak," The boy continued.

John bit the inside of his lip, his anger building.

"Did you hear me Sherlock? I said you're a freak. A stalker! Having your brother pay for your friends, its pathetic."

"I'm sorry," John said to Sherlock before he took off running toward the boy.

The boy tensed up then brought his arm up to punch John. John bent down, dodging the punch then used his left hand to pull the boy forward and his right to hit the boy square on the jaw. The boy stumbled back, but was pulled forward again by John's grip on his shirt. He was hit with another punch, then another. John let go of his shirt and punched him again, then followed through with his left, making the boy stumble back and fall on the ground. John got on top of him and right as he was about to hit him again, his arm was stopped. He turned around, his heart beating fast, then nearly stopping as he saw who it was.

"Come with me," Mycroft said.

John was pulled up to his feet by Mycroft and thrown to the side of the other boy.

"Are you okay, Richard?" Mycroft asked him.

Richard sat up. He placed his hand on his bloody nose and nodded.

"Then get up, you're coming with me too," Mycroft said.

"I didn't do anything," He begged.

"I said that you're coming too," Mycroft said angrily.

The boys followed behind Mycroft and John looked to Sherlock who was suppressing a smile. John looked to the ground and laughed.

"You too, Sherlock," Mycroft growled.

The three boys were pulled into an office that was located at the end of a row of cabins. There were two chairs in front of a desk and Mycroft motioned the boys to take a seat before he himself took a seat behind the desk. Sherlock sat without hesitation. John looked at the other chair then up to Richard, who's face was beaten pretty badly with blood gushing out of his nose and dripping onto the white tiled floors. Then John remembered that that he deserved it and took the second seat. Mycroft bent down in his chair and opened a drawer. He came back up with napkins and a portable icepack. He handed the napkins to Richard and squeezed the icepack between his hands, breaking it and activating the cooling. He wrapped that in a napkin and handed it to the standing, bleeding, bruised boy.

"This is unacceptable," Mycroft began, "Bullying on these camp grounds is punishable to the point of being sent home."

Richard took a deep breath as if getting ready to defend himself. Mycroft shot him a look, and he stopped.

"Fighting on this camp ground is also punishable," Mycroft continued, he looked straight at John.

"Encouraging the fight," Mycroft turned to Sherlock, "You know better then that, Sherlock."

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"He didn't want me to…to fight. That was all me. I-I'm sorry," John said, he looked down at his hands. His knuckles were covered in blood.

"Sherlock, John, you have clean up duty, you ha-,"

"But, he punched me in the face, he…" Richard touched his nose and winced then continued to talk, this time as if he had a cold, "I'm pretty sure he broke my nose."

"Your nose is fine Richard," Mycroft scolded, "You however have been a nascence for the three years you have been here. Always picking on people, just be glad my brother doesn't care what you have to say and thinks nothing of you."

Richard cringed.

"Richard, go to the nurses, then pack up."

"But,"

"Pack…up," Mycroft growled.

He walked out on the verge of tears.

"You two have cafeteria clean up tonight," Mycroft said after Richard was gone.

"I'm really disappointed in you Sherlock, it's the same thing every year. I told you to tell me when it got out of hand."

"I was handling it, I don't care what they say, I've told you that. The only reason it gets out of hand is because you think it does. I'm not doing anything. I mind my own business. Last year it was you who caused the scene Mycroft, this.."

"This year it was John," Mycroft said finishing Sherlock's sentence. He turned to John, "Why do you care what people say about Sherlock?"

Sherlock and Mycroft were looking at John with curiosity, as if this concept of concern and care were new to them.

"Because…he's my friend," John answered.

Mycroft sat back in his chair still a bit confused. Sherlock looked at John and smiled. He looked down at his feet then back up at John who was smiling back.

After dinner the boys stayed in the dinning hall. They sat there waiting for the rest of the students to leave and go to their cabins. Once they were gone they got to work. They swept the floors, mopped and took the trash to the big dumpsters on the other side of camp. They were now wiping down the tables.

"I never thanked you for what you did today, did I?" Sherlock said.

"It's fine," John said, waving it off.

"Thank you," Sherlock said any ways.

John smiled and nodded then continued to wipe the tables.

"Though I don't know why you care so much… about what people think of me," Sherlock said.

John kept his eyes on the table.

"I… I've never met anyone like you, Sherlock. You're so smart, and seem so much older then your actual age, and you…" John laughed it off.

"I what?" Sherlock pushed.

"Nothing," John said smiling and shaking his head.

"Tell me," Sherlock said reaching his hand across the table and placing it on John's.

John looked up at him, his stomach in knots. He smiled again.

"I…" John laughed again, "I just like how you get so excited about things, like when you were telling me about that Carl Powers case."

Sherlock smiled.

"You find me attractive when I get excited," Sherlock stated, a small amount of flirtation hanging in his words.

John eyes grew wide.

"I…" John stumbled, "Wow, you're good."

"I'm a professional," Sherlock joked.

"Maybe one day," John said.

They finished cleaning and headed back to their cabin. They were making jokes about the other boys in hushed whispers, their arms locked around each other, John leaning into Sherlock's body.

They got into the cabin, got ready for bed then sat across from each other on their own cots. There were no words said, they just both knew that neither one of them wanted to go to sleep. They started laughing, Sherlock looked away shyly. John got up from his cot and went to Sherlock. He placed his hands on each side of Sherlock's face and kissed him. Sherlock's hands went around John's hips and they fell back onto the cot. John's legs were on both sides of Sherlock, his hands intertwined with Sherlock's hair. Sherlock's legs were unable to find a position to stay in. He bent his knees then straightened his leg. His hands moving from John's hips to his shoulders trying to bring him down closer to him. Their breathing was jagged and rough.

"John," Sherlock gasped in between kisses.

"Sherlock," John moaned, misinterpreting his name being called.

"No, John," Sherlock said.

John opened his eyes, Sherlock's were wide.

"We…I need to stop," Sherlock said.

"Okay," John rolled off of Sherlock and laid beside him.

Sherlock turned on his side to face John. John did the same, their knees touching.

"We're never going to see each other again after tomorrow," Sherlock said.

"You don't know that," John said.

"You live no where near me. What are the chances that we will ever see each other again? What? Maybe a 12% chance?" Sherlock said.

"That's enough for me," John replied.

"Oh, don't be corny," Sherlock said.

"You're the one who brought it up," John said.

"I'm serious John. They say it's good to have friend but what happens when your only friend leaves you forever. There's nothing I can do to stop this, we're not old enough to get a flat together,"

"Who said anything about getting a flat together," John said.

"Shhhh, I'm thinking," Sherlock hushed.

"Sorry I thought we were having a conversation,"

"Shhh," Sherlock placed his finger on John's lips. They sat there in silence. Sherlock placed his hands together and placed them on his lips. He turned to John, "We're just going to have to make the most of what we have together."

"Sher-"

He rolled on top of John and pushed their lips hard together.


	6. Promise

John woke up to the sound of the horn blasting in the distance. His eyes slowly opened. His head was resting on Sherlock's chest, his arm wrapped around his waist, and his leg across his body. He rubbed his head into Sherlock's shoulder in an attempt to wake Sherlock up softly. Sherlock groaned and rolled over to the side, forcing John to roll onto his back. Sherlock put his arm out to grab John and John rolled back to his side, their faces inches apart.

"John," Sherlock slurred, his eyes still closed.

"Hmmm?" John said nuzzling closer to Sherlock and wrapping his arms around him.

"John, I wish we had never met," Sherlock said.

John brought his body away from Sherlock, saddened by his words.

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at John angrily. He let out a huff of air and tried to pull John back into his chest. John resisted.

"Why.. Why do you say that?" John said, still pushing Sherlock away. There wasn't much room on the small cot, but John continued to pull away.

"Don't be like that," Sherlock said. He scooted his body forward and forced John to put his head into the hallow of his neck. John rubbed his face into Sherlock's shoulder, it was warm and comfortable, and even though the words that had come out of Sherlock's mouth hurt him, he knew they weren't meant to make him feel bad.

"It's not a bad thing that we met," John said, "I was so alone, and you,"

"Shhh," Sherlock hushed. He brought John closer to him.

They laid there, John having a million things to say to Sherlock, Sherlock already knowing what they were. Now it was Sherlock who needed to speak. He needed to tell John how he felt, but feelings were foreign to Sherlock. Friendships and relationships, both physical and emotional were something that Sherlock couldn't study, he knew they were a chemical reaction, but they felt like so much more. He didn't know why, but he wanted John's acceptance. Not only that, he wanted John to feel accepted by him. He wanted John to know that he was the only person that he actually cared about, he didn't care that they had just met, because he already knew everything he needed to know about John.

In a whisper, Sherlock began to speak.

"You're not the only one who was alone, but now it's going to be so much harder to be alone again, after I have just found someone I wouldn't mind being with," Sherlock rubbed his head against John's.

John began to laugh; he pulled back from Sherlock just enough to look him in the eyes.

"I'm glad you don't mind being with me," he said.

Sherlock smiled and kissed John.

They got up and got ready, deciding that they would grab some food and go to the waterfall to have one last look and a little more time together.

The waterfall was more beautiful in the morning then it had been during sunset. The rising sun danced off the falling water into a pool of dark blue. They sat there, listening to the calming sound of the water falling from the cliff and hitting the water below. They were alone.

Sherlock took a seat on the grassy floor and John sat beside him. John took Sherlock's hand in both of his and began to examine it. It was a rather large hand with long fingers and wide palm. At the tips of his fingers were white splotched stains from experimenting with chemicals. He rubbed his hand, massaging it, making Sherlock's cold hand warm with his.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened," John said, moving on to Sherlock's other hand.

"I don't see a reason to," Sherlock said.

"That's not fair. You know my whole life story and you can't tell me what happened last year to have your brother all worked up?" John let go of Sherlock's hand.

"You didn't tell me anything,"

"Yeah…but you still know. Not everyone has your superpower," John said half joking.

"It's not a superpower, I simply-

"Observe," they said at the same time.

Sherlock gave him an odd look.

"Yeah you've said that," John said annoyed.

"Listen, John, it's really not that important," Sherlock tried to ease him.

"If it's not important then you'll have no trouble telling me what happened," John picked up Sherlock's hand again; they were already beginning to get cold.

"Fine," Sherlock sighed.

"Fine," John said triumphantly.

"I'm not one to have friends, but you already knew that. Frankly I would rather stay away from most people as the lot of them are vacant. My roommate last year didn't like me right when we met, called me jackass because I told him that his mom was having an affair. I thought I was doing him a service, a little heads up before his mom gave him the news that she was going to divorce his father,"

"Sherlock," John interrupted with shock.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes…yes just, yeah go on,"

"He didn't talk to me after that, not that I minded, he was an idiot anyways. He thought it would be funny to pull a prank on me, so while I was taking a shower he took my clothes and towel. But like I said, he's an idiot and I had heard him talking about it with someone else. I hid an extra pair of clothes and a towel and when I came out there was a group of boys waiting for me to be naked and they were ready to take pictures. All their laughing stopped when I came out fully dressed and each of them turned to the boy with unsatisfied expressions.

"I looked straight at the boy and told him that if he wanted to see me naked he would have to work a lot harder than that. All the other boys snickered and I heard a couple of them call him queer, and that made him really mad, so he called me a few names, a couple others joined in, then he charged me. I was going to fight back but Mycroft showed up and tried to pull me away, getting me punched in the face. That's it, I don't know why Mycroft makes such a big deal about it," Sherlock said.

John didn't know how to respond. He'd never got bullied, but he knew that if he had he might not be here today. His family issues already had him on the edge, if he was bullied too…

"I don't care about what people say about me," Sherlock said.

John nodded and just held Sherlock's hand.

"I do, however, care what you think," Sherlock whispered.

John looked up at him, his eyes getting caught in Sherlock's. He was held there. He thought he might have had something to say, but he lost it.

"I take it back," Sherlock said.

"Take… take what back?"

"When I said that I wish we had never met, I'm glad we did," he said in his deep voice.

"Me too," John laughed.

Sherlock pulled his hand away from John's and placed it on his cheek. John leaned into it, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of Sherlock's hand, the hand that he had warmed in his own. His lips were met with Sherlock's. Their mouths moved together, slowly, and John grabbed at Sherlock's shirt, pulling him forward, their kisses becoming more frantic. Sherlock placed his other hand on John's hip pulling it toward him. Sherlock pushed John onto his back and laid on top of him. They started giggling and Sherlock rolled off of him. He reached out and grabbed John's hand.

"I think we're past acquaintances," John joked.

Sherlock laughed, and propped himself up on his elbow.

"I wanted to be more than that when I saw you changing that first day," Sherlock said leaning down and kissing John.

"I told… you not to… look," John said between kisses.

"I couldn't resist,"

Sherlock gave John one last kiss and got up. He helped John to his feet, then pulled him in for another kiss.

"We should head back," Sherlock said with his head resting against John's.

John leaned in and kissed Sherlock again.

"Let's go,"

They went back to their cabin and began to pack in silence. Neither one of them were ready to say goodbye, but a goodbye was inevitable. John looked at the clock.

"Stop doing that," Sherlock said.

"Doing what?"

"Looking at the clock. We know how much time we have, must you continue to bring it up," Sherlock said.

John sat down on his cot and patted it. Sherlock took the seat next to him. Sherlock looked at John, waiting for him to say something, anything. Instead, John reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hand.

"I-" John tried to begin, but his words were stopped.

"I'm going to miss you too," Sherlock said.

John cleared his throat then smiled up at Sherlock.

"You have to promise me something," Sherlock said.

"Anything," John replied.

"Don't cut. I don't want to lose someone I never had," Sherlock said.

"But-"

"Oh don't start. We may never see each other again, but if there is a chance we do, I don't want it to be diminished because you went off and did something stupid."

John squeezed Sherlock's hand.

"Just…promise me," Sherlock said.

"I promise," John said, his voice breaking on the last word.

There was a knock at the door and Sherlock and John shot up. John looked at Sherlock then to the clock. Sherlock grabbed John's chin and turned it toward his face.

"Times up," Sherlock whispered. His eyes saddened. He pushed up and kissed John's lips.

"I'll walk you out," Sherlock said then planted another kiss onto his lips.

John grabbed his items and saw Sherlock grab a piece of paper.

They walked out to the lot where John's and other kids parents waited.

"Thank you," John said.

"Don't be sappy. Just… just remember okay," Sherlock said.

They hugged, both of them holding on, knowing that once they let go they would also be letting go of everything that had happened that weekend. Three days… it astonished John how quickly it had taken his life to change, and now that he was going back, he wished that those three days had been forever.

They held on, but alas it was time to let go.

Sherlock slipped a piece of paper into John's pocket as they let go of each other. On it was his number and email and the word "Promise". He thought himself clever.

Sherlock watched John walk away, turning around but once to get one last glance at Sherlock.. Then he got in the car, a small wave goodbye from the back seat, and he was gone.

Sherlock was used to being alone, but there was an emptiness in him. He wasn't used to being empty.

Sherlock finally looked away from where he had last seen John.

He began to walk back to his cabin, placing his hands in his pockets. There was an item that felt like paper in his pocket. He grabbed it, his heart racing.

On it was John's number and email with the words "I promise" on it.

Sherlock clutched it in his hand, laughing to himself.

"Clever," He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. I hope you liked it.


End file.
